The ones of the sheild
by Kitty Kindly
Summary: After Arwen is wed to Aragorn, The Ones of the Sheild must come to protect her. They are the only four who know the truth behind Gondor's past...and Arwen's soul.


(AUTHOR) Hey! This is my first LOTR fic, so don't kill me. No flames, okay? I have a huge plot for this fan fiction and it's not even started in this chappy. I promise you though—it's gonna be awesome. I wrote down the summaries for each chapter and I squealed in delight. ;) But anywho—let's get started on the characters and the conflict (I think)! Yay! 

  
Rain. 

It was the soft liquids that would fall from the sky and shatter upon her shoulder. They looked like diamonds descending out of black…the mist and dampness around her made the forest feel even more elven, if that were possible. Yes, how indeed Quessiel enjoyed the long nights where the breeze would flow through her village and the rain would fall if the clouds wanted it to…she sat on a bridge, feet dangling in the air underneath her dress. Her eyes glanced down at the rippling water below her as the drops hit it. Her reflection could still be seen, and Quessiel looked away. She did not find herself to be too attractive, since the Lady Galadriel was the most beautiful of all. Or so Quessiel had believed. But the elf's eyes darted back to the blue surface and she looked at herself. Her light brown hair was short for an elf. It was cut to her shoulders. However, Quessiel had one long braid on the back of her head that went down to her back. 

Quessiel brought her feet up and tucked them beneath her dress. She held a hand out to the air and felt the rain slowly trickling down her fingertips until it reached her forearm and got soaked into her sleeves. Quessiel knew she should have been inside of the main halls by now, but she wanted to stay out in the rain and just…just… 

"Quessiel." 

Quessiel jumped out of her dreamy sequence and spun around, only to be met by a pair of deep blue eyes. It was a tall elder elf and she smiled. 

"I am sorry, Damenwen. I was getting too caught up in my thoughts." 

Damenwen just smiled. "I know. I was afraid to get you out of your trance…however; I do hope you realize that the meeting on Gondor is already over." 

Quessiel paled. She glanced back at the waters. "Oh. I am sorry I could not be there to hear it." 

Damenwen sat on the bridge with her, flattening out her skirt. "Do not trouble yourself, Quessiel. I understand. But I have the news on Gondor, if you would like to hear it." 

Quessiel focused her eyes on Damenwen and nodded. "Yes, yes, please do tell me." 

"Alright," Damenwen began. "Aragorn and Arwen are going to wed." 

"Oh, Damenwen, that is wonderful! Ai, I cannot believe she is going to do it. My heart sings for her, though it also mourns. It is a terrible thing for Arwen to not stay with the others forever…" 

"I know," Damenwen sadly agreed. "But we mustn't be that easily crushed. We must be there for her." 

"Yes, I know. Damenwen…are we the only ones staying behind? Besides Thalion and Mereithal, I mean." 

There was a sudden emotion of fear that flew across the older elf's face. She slowly sat up and leaned on the bridge, looking out. Her fair hair wavered in the wind and her blue eyes cast down. "I believe so, Quessiel. All the other elves…they were leaving to the Grey Havens." 

There was a sudden choked cry from Quessiel and she shot up from the ground. "Why do we have to be the ones staying behind, Damenwen? Why? Why can we not just go with the rest of the clans, instead of staying in this sinful, dying world? The ring has just now been destroyed, or so we thing. So who knows what kind of demoness things could arise?" 

Damenwen spun around and walked forward, her hands gluing themselves to Quessiel's shoulders. She shook her hard and cried, "Snap out of your fear, Quessiel! You should be strong and proud. We are the chosen ones to stay behind. We will not die." 

Quessiel threw herself away from Damenwen. She cried softly for a moment but finally regained her calmness. She hissed, "Oh, yes, we will die. We will die of mourning and broken hearts." 

Damenwen's eyes darkened and her fists clenched together tightly. She walked away from the bridge and began trudging up the long, steep hill which led to the Rivendell refuge. Before she had gotten to the middle of the hill, however, she looked over her shoulder and snapped, "We will survive this world, Damenwen. We must." 

Behind her, Quessiel slid down to the ground and pulled her knees up to her chest. She laid her head down on them and began crying tears. "I am afraid, of spirits of the forest," she whispered shakily. "Please help me." 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

The rain had stopped later that evening and Quessiel was lightly glad of since it had made her feel sadder. The rain usually brought her happiness, but since she was struggling for her confidence in times like these, it hadn't helped at all. She sat on a stone bench in her Rivendell room, waiting for Thalion to gather their horses together. She was playing with her hair gently, getting out some leaves from the fading trees. She stood up suddenly as a male elf walking in the room hurriedly. 

"Thalion! Good sir, have you gotten the horses?" 

The black haired elf nodded. "Yes, I have. Are you ready?" 

Quessiel shook her head slowly. "No," She managed to get out. She strode up to his side and looked up at him. "Tell me you are afraid of this journey too." 

Thalion put a hand on her shoulder. "Mellon…It is still heavy on your heart? On what we are to do?" 

Quessiel bit her lip. "Yes. I have been thinking of it ever since Arwen came into this world." 

"It is easy to be afraid, Quessiel. But we were chosen by Elrond to do this…heaven knows where he is now. Probably the grey havens. But listen, mellon. We are the four. We can do it…" His voice trailed off as he heard Damenwen shouting from below. "Let us ride." 

Quessiel nodded and rushed out the door with him. They were going on the journey they had been bound to since they were born…the journey to the mortal city and towns. Gondor. The mission…to protect Arwen. 

They ran down the stairs of the Rivendell house until they came to the main doors. Thalion pushed them open for Quessiel and she nodded with a simple thank you. They were about to speak, but a loud voice behind them interrupted the pre-conversation. 

"Mereithal!" 

The loud shout was easy enough to be heard from miles away. Quessiel and Thalion looked around until they spotted Damenwen. She was standing at the gate of Rivendell, hands on her hips and tapping her left foot on the grass. She looked effortlessly pissed and was glaring at a young elf that was running with bags of food. 

"MEREITHAL! What took you so long—wait, what is that?" 

"Food," Mereithal innocently said. "For the starving races that we may come across." 

Damenwen rolled her eyes. "Oh? They can get their own food, I am sure, and so can we. Now come on—get on a horse. We are leaving." 

Pouting, Mereithal dropped her things and leaped up onto a mare. There was a gentle smiling Quessiel sitting beside her on a brown mare. "Why hello there, Mereithal. Thinking with your heart again?" 

"Of course," she replied. "I always do." 

  
(AUTHOR) Ewwwwwww, SUCH A SMALL CHAPTER ACK!!! O_O I usually write 5,000 words for a chapter but I was so lazy so I wrote this in twenty minutes. -_-;;; This is more of a prologue, mrew. So tomorrow I will try and work on the first chapter. Squee. Bye bye. 


End file.
